


days like this

by rubberbisquit



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/rubberbisquit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s drafted by the Red Deer Rebels first overall in 2008.  That is a first.  She’s fifteen years old and about to leave home to join a team as an underage player.  And she’s going through the worst parts of puberty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	days like this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [romi_reinvented](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=romi_reinvented).



> Gift for romi_reinvented!
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely Racingrox89.

_On days like this, with the sky so blue_

_A hand could almost reach up_

_And twirl lazy fingers through the clouds_

_The slight breeze, the light rustle of the leafs_

_There is no better place_

_Than to call out familiar shapes by your side_

Ryan has always felt that a piece of her was missing. Ever since she was a little girl, figuring out the art of passing on a frozen pond, there’s been an absence when she moves the puck.  There’s an emptiness when she sets it loose over the ice and there’s _no one there_.

There should be someone there.  Some days, when the boys make fun of her more than usual, when they push her over or won’t pass her the puck, she stares after them from the ice.  And something inside her says _get up.  Don’t let them win._

_Get up._

Sometimes the voice is a little nervous, a little reserved, telling her to keep her stick down if she expects a pass.  Sometimes it tells her to get her head in the game and ignore all the crap going on.

There are other days when the voice is jocular, laughing at her early attempts at a snap shot.  It tells her to point her stick where she wants the puck to go.  She laughs at that one, alone by herself on the pond, because it sounds silly.  She thinks it’s probably crazy but the next time she’s at practice with the boys she nets a beautiful wrister.  Even the goalie looks impressed.

She doesn’t get made fun of as much after that.  Some of the guys even hang out with her away from school or practice.

She’s ten when her parents start having hushed conversations about her playing hockey.  Good hockey.

The talks range in locations, duration, and time of day.  They’re usually tense, both of her parents’ heads bent together and their shoulders hunched.  As though they could hide from their two children.  Adam always grabs her arm and challenges her to a round of shinny when Mom and Dad are this way.

Ryan doesn’t think about it a whole lot.  She shoots and passes and wonders what it would be like if the guy on her right wasn’t Adam.  If he wasn’t also a lefty.  If he could see the play she’s building in her mind before the puck even drops.  And what if her left winger was a little bit faster, a little bit smarter, than all the boys she plays with now.

It’s a feeling that follows her around like a puppy every time she’s on the ice.  She hears _soon enough it’ll be okay_ inside her head.

The summer after she turns twelve she walks in from the back yard with Adam to a man sitting at the kitchen table.  He’s tall and has a strange accent and he gives her a smile. 

Ryan remembers the way her mother had looked so hopeful and her father had looked so troubled.  The man, introduced as the assistant coach for the Burnaby Winter Club, starts talking about all the ways she could be an asset on the ice.  The Bruins are the local Pee-Wee team.  She’s grown up with the majority of them; she’s better than them too.

Ryan isn’t a pioneer; a girl playing with the boys.  There’s always been a few in every town.  The NHL has already drafted a dozen women.  She isn’t a pioneer but that doesn’t mean she isn’t special.

After she leads the team to the provincial title she thinks that it could have been a lot easier.  If only the team could have found her wingers who knew what they were really doing.  _Don’t be so hard on them.  They tried their best._ She hangs her head because her team really had done their best and they had won, so yeah.  She shouldn’t have been so hard on them.

She’s drafted by the Red Deer Rebels first overall in 2008.  That is a first.  She’s fifteen years old and about to leave home to join a team as an underage player.  And she’s going through the worst parts of puberty.  _It only gets worse_.

Ryan has always been tall and skinny, like a stick her dad will say.  Now she’s putting on weight in strange places, muscle is being covered in a layer of fat that she just can’t get rid of, no matter how many miles she runs. 

It throws off her balance, and her shot, for the few games she actually gets to play with the Rebels.  She thinks that’s why they send her to the Giants in Vancouver.  So she could straighten her shit out with her body.

She does.  She gets better.  She learns how to layer sports bras to flatten out her chest so her pads fit right.  She lets her hair grow out a little bit, long enough that a braid peeks out the back of her helmet when she plays.  It gets pulled once during a scrum around the net; some asshole from Regina makes a shitty comment about her tits and then yanks her head straight back.

She gets a cheap shot in before her enforcer muscles the guy away to rearrange his face.

The next day Ryan cuts her hair.  She’s sad when it happens, but happy.  She’s happy it’s gone but it had looked so nice.  Dark and thick.  She doesn’t really think that’s how she felt about her hair, but she rolls with it anyway.

During the winter after she’s drafted into the WHL she’s shocked awake by a particular set of feelings that are completely foreign to her.  It’s two in the morning and she’s dead to the world when the most profound feeling of rightness jerks her back into consciousness.  It’s as though that emptiness inside of her is suddenly filled and whole.  She gasps heavy breaths into the dark of her room before collapsing back onto her bed.

She drifts back off with this completeness lulling her.  It’s the most restful night’s sleep she’s ever had.

The next night it’s the same thing.  It continues for almost a week until the last night.  The feeling is so overwhelming she wants to weep with joy.  She paces her room, rubbing the tears that do eventually fall.  For an hour she’s overcome.  It softens, deepens into something else.  She can finally lie back down.

What follows is even stranger.

Ryan is a teenager.  Who has started going through puberty.  She is absolutely not at all unfamiliar with hormones going crazy and thinking about sex.

That is the only thing that she can think of in this moment.  Lust blankets her, makes her close her eyes and gasp at the strength.  She can almost feel hands on her body, tracing her waist, her hips and her thighs.  Her core tightens and dampens. 

She thinks about sex plenty.  She spends lots of time with guys just brimming with testosterone.  Ryan is completely unprepared for her orgasm when it hits.  She cries out, her muscles seizing. 

Ryan is a damn and sweaty mess when it finally subsides, afterglow making her languid. 

The first orgasm was a shock.  She’s got about three seconds of warning, three seconds of build and heat _again,_ before the second rips through her.  She’s so loud that Adam comes knocking on her door a few minutes later and she can only shrug after she’s opened the door.  She says it was a bad dream and if her legs are a little shaky, her brother has the good grace not to mention it.

She gets similar waves of _right_ and _familiar_ a lot over the next few years.  Off and on she spends an hour or two reveling in the experience before it fades.  When the 2010 NHL season begins it lasts for nearly a week.  She has half a dozen orgasms through this period, always late at night but a more reasonable hour now.  It always leaves her drained, but happy.

Ryan’s been watching the NHL regularly, obviously, but when 2011 finally arrives she’s nervous.  She’s going to be drafted in June.  Her coaches tell her she’s likely to go high so it’s the teams at the bottom that catch her attention the most.  She’s watched the last few years, smiled at the guys she’s played with over the years, and air fist bumps for the girls. 

When it’s her time she’s ranked number one overall.  That’s another first for females. 

Pulling on that Oilers jersey feels like the second best moment of her entire life.  Her grin is so wide she feels like her face is going to split in half.  She’s going to be an Oiler.  She’s joining a real part of hockey history.  She’s making it by going first overall and to the only Canadian team to not have a female.

What she can’t really share with anyone around her is how putting on that jersey makes something slide into place inside her.  Something that was previously displaced, but she didn’t know about before that moment.

It keeps her going through the summer, motivates her to work hard during her last off-season as a junior.  She’s not going to assume that she’ll make the pro roster right out of the gate but there’s a part of her that knows it’s a fact.

She walks into the locker room on the first day and the feeling returns.  She looks around.  It’s the first time she’s gone through this in Edmonton.  The guys around her are smiling and introducing themselves.  They seem pretty excited about getting a girl on the squad.

One steps up.  Ryan knows who he is, of course.  She knows who everyone is.  This is Jordan Eberle and he’s holding out a hand.  She takes it.

Her knees almost buckle at the sensations that sweep up her arm and through her body.  Eberle looks like he might just be going through the same.  They both take a deep breath, their motions synching. 

“Uh, hey Ebs.  Gonna let the rest of us meet the rookie too?”  Eberle, Ebs, blinks hard.  They’re still breathing in time with one another, but he loosens his grip and attempts a step back.  Ryan has the strongest urge to follow him.

His eyes are wide when he whispers, “I didn’t know there was another one of us.  I didn’t- I would have found you.  We would have-”

She has no idea what’s going on. 

He’s cut off by the blond winger he plays with the most, Taylor Hall.  Hall slings an arm around Ebs’ shoulders. Ebs relaxes at the touch and Ryan _really_ wants to join in the half hug.  She _really_ wants to slide herself between the two of them.

Ebs whispers something in Hall’s ear.  The blond jerks his gaze towards her, eyes wide.  “You’re-?  Wait, I don’t understand.”  She really doesn’t get it either.

Ebs shrugs off the arm and pushes Hall forward.  Ryan almost sighs with relief when he catches himself during the stumble against her shoulder.  The feeling floods her fully again.

“Holy shit.”  He sounds blown away by this discovery.

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Ryan learns after that first day at training camp that Ebs and Hall have something like a soul bond.  She’s heard of the soul bond but it’s all been passing knowledge.  No one really believes in that stuff anymore. 

That’s what her parents had told her.  That it never happens.

Except it has happened; it’s happening right in front of her, and she’s apparently a part of it.

A soul bond sounds improbable.  A three-way soul bond just sounds like bullshit.

She’s sitting in Ebs and Hall’s living room, on a far chair while the two guys are curled up on a couch across from her.  “Prove it.”

Hall’s eyebrows rise.  “Prove what?  You almost fell over when Ebs shook your hand.”

Ryan huffs and crosses her arms.  She’s had these crazy feelings for years before she met either of them.  Hall and Ebs give each other a look and shrug.  The turn their attention back to her, staring straight into her eyes.

She shifts, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.  Her chest feels full, like she’s about to burst with excitement or anxiety.  There’s a pressure in her head; it doesn’t hurt, just feels uncomfortable.  She tries pushing back against it until Hall tells her to stop.

She does.  She relaxes against the pressure in her head and then has to gasp.  They’re there.  Right there in her head with her, bickering a little as they try to figure out what message to send, _what they want to say to her telepathically_.

“Holy shit.”  Ryan gasps again.  “Holy shit you’re- you’re in my head.  What the fuck?”

“Yeah, tell us about it.”

The fucking weirdest thing is that she _remembers them._ In her head, she can clearly hear the difference between Hall and Ebs.  Hall is usually pretty loud and boisterous, always going on about some adventure or another.  Ebs is quieter, more of a voice of reason and encouragement.  They’ve been with her for years.

The soul bond, connection, whatever this thing is, is really strange now that she’s with them.  She’s brushing up against both of them all the time.  Their first shift on ice she’s so distracted by the two of them talking she wins the faceoff but shoots the puck back to their own goalie, causing the whole line to start from their own zone.

Hallsy gives her a hip bump when they set up again.

“Just let it flow Nuge.  It’s natural.  Let it be natural.”

She doesn’t really get the hang of it until their second week at camp, the first round of preseason games.

She and Hallsy and Ebs have been coined the Kid Line, unofficially.  They’re sitting next to each other in the locker room for her first real game in an Oilers jersey when Hallsy nudges her mentally.  She doesn’t spare him a glance, just pokes him back as best as she can.

_Keep your head up and you’ll be fine._

She hears Ebs now.  _You’ll be fine; you’ve got us._

She’s clearly more nervous than she’d expected if they’re picking up on it.

And they are fine.  They’re fucking incendiary, their passing weaves perfect and their set ups on point every time they touch the puck.  They all score, pulling three point nights each.  The boys are all grins as they strip down and head to the hotel.  Ryan feels like there should be some sort of celebration going on, but neither of them seems inclined to invite her out.

She’s feeling funny anyway when she waves goodbye.  They disappear inside their shared room and she collapses on her bed.  She’s feeling warm and overworked, but excited.

Really excited.  She feels the lust building and knows what it is before it’s fully situated inside her.  Clearly it’s going to be one of those nights.  It hasn’t happened since she came to Edmonton, the last hitting her three days before her arrival.  She pulls off her dress, slinging it to a far corner, and tries to work on her shoes.

She’s getting distracted now.  The sensations seem _louder_ right now, more clear than ever before.  She has a hand inside her panties, playing with her lips, when she actually _hears_ a groan.  But not out loud.  She hears it in her head.

“Those little shits.”

She’s up and pulling on a robe in a heartbeat.  When she bangs on the door to the boys’ room Ebs calls out for her to wait, give them a minute.  He sounds strained.  She feels disappointment and anger and frustration over their connection.  When he rips open the door he looks entirely disheveled, his pajama pants thrown on haphazardly.

“What the fuck do you want Nuge?”

She pushes past him.  He squawks in protest.  Ryan finds Hallsy near naked on the near bed, his hand trying to adjust his hardness contained within his boxers.  He grabs at a blanket to try and cover himself.  “Nuge, what the fuck-“

“Three years ago, at the end of December. Or the beginning of January 2008. What were you two doing?”

Ebs stares at her.  Hallsy shifts uncomfortably and looks at Ebs.  She repeats the question mentally as best as she can.

“It was the first time we played together.  World Juniors.”  Hallsy props himself up on his elbows, still hard.  They’re both still radiating an edge of arousal, tinted with confusion.  The anger, at least, has faded.

“Did you guys start screwing then?”

Something horribly embarrassing starts pulsing off Ebs.  Hallsy grins, realizing what she’s implying.  “Yeah Nuge.  Yeah we did.”  His hand drifts back to his dick.  Ryan sways with the pure pleasure he strokes out of his body.

“Holy fuck, Nuge.  You can- you can feel this too?”  Ebs takes a small step forward.  Nuge gives him a cocky grin.  “Of course you can.  Why would this- I mean when we- you know.”  Ebs sighs, not even knowing what to describe.

Ryan smiles a little wider.  “Show me.”

Hallsy knows exactly what she’s saying.  Ebs is a little slower to pick up her hint.  Thankfully the blond is a man of action.

He climbs to his knees; his dick is still rock hard and bounces as he shuffles his way across the bed to Ebs.  Ebs doesn’t know what’s coming until Hallsy has both hands on his waist, reeling him back.  Hallsy’s mouth nips at his hip bone, tongue drawing patterns on his skin.  Ryan closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the rough texture of Hallsy’s tongue on her own skin.

“Jesus fuck, that’s amazing.”  Ebs groans, a hand coming up to meet Hallsy’s hair.  He tightens his fist which makes Hallsy groans which makes Ryan rub her thighs together.  Holy shit this is better than any sensation she’d gotten through their connection before.

“Ryan, come over here.” 

There was never a question in her mind when she came over here that this wouldn’t happen.  She’s vicariously been having sex with these two for _years_.  She’s never had sex herself and yet she can almost tell the exact moment that Ebs will pull Hallsy’s mouth away to kiss him.  Knows what Hallsy will look like, spread underneath Ebs and squirming for his cock.

She crosses the room and drops her robe.  Both boys look up at her, standing over them in her panties.  They’ve never seen her naked like this before.  She feels powerful, two grown hockey players sending her the most delicious sorts of arousal.

She steps up to Ebs and wraps a hand in his hair.  Her fingers brush Hallsy’s, already holding him tight.  They both groan.  It is the first time all three of them have been touching each other without hockey gear on.  “Hallsy, get the lube.”

Ebs groans again.  “Fuck Nuge.  Fuck-ˮ he loses whatever he wanted to say as she squeezes him through his pants.  The feedback shoots straight to her crotch.  Her panties are damp and so uncomfortable now.  She’s about to tell Hallsy to get out of his boxers when he surprises her.

He wraps both arms around her waist from behind and tosses her to the bed.  She squeaks but stops complaining immediately when she sees the intent on Ebs’s face.  He’s staring behind her, right at Hallsy.  She can feel them talking, right at the edge of her consciousness.  It’s not much but there’s a push, a want, which shimmers between the two of them.

Hallsy dips his lips to her ear.  “You could feel us Nuge, but we never felt you.”

She watches Ebs inch a hand up her thigh.  His skin is dark against hers, a byproduct of his time in the sun and her lack of it over the summer.  Hallsy bites her earlobe, bringing her attention back to him.  “There were nights though, when it was a little better between us.  The connection was a little stronger.”

She shivers, immediately thinking of the few nights she’d used her fingers to help speed up the process when she’d been so overcome by lust.  “It was you, wasn’t it?”  Ebs has both hands at the edge of her panties, spreading her apart, pushing her legs aside for him.  He settles between her thighs, thumbs toying with the elastic.  “Wasn’t it?”  She swallows hard and nods.

Ryan closes her eyes and leans back against Hallsy.  She opens up to them both completely, filling the spaces between them with the memory of her moans and slick fingers in the dark.  Hallsy surges behind her, tightening his grip on her waist.  Ebs’s hands become like vices as he processes her memories.

“Oh Nuge.  But you’ve never- not with anyone else?”                                                                     

She doesn’t open her eyes, just shakes her head.  Hallsy nudges at her jaw, mouthing along the skin he finds until it’s her mouth and he’s kissing her deeply.  Ebs uses the distraction to run gentle fingers over the swollen lips of her core, the sensation muted through the fabric.  She _keens_. 

Ryan is overwhelmed.  Hallsy devours her from behind while Ebs continues his exploration.  His fingertips nudge her panties aside and she can feel Hallsy gasp when it happens.  It really is amazing, what’s floating between them.  She knows both the guys are rock hard.  She can feel Hallsy at her back, but she can also feel Ebs _through_ Ebs and it’s a foreign sensation.  Yet it’s familiar all the same.  Her mind is drawing connections between everything that she’s felt in the past and what’s going on now.

Ebs slips a finger inside her gently.  She tightens around the unfamiliar pressure.  Hallsy pulls his mouth back enough to whisper, “You’re so wet for us Nuge.  So wet.  God, you feel amazing.”  Ebs is careful as he works another finger inside her.  Hallsy thrusts against her back, a hand coming to cut one of her tits.  He rolls her nipple experimentally.  All three of them feel the sensation shoot to their cores.

“Ebs, more, please.”  She can barely think through the haze.  He obliges, adding a third finger and speeding up.  She gropes behind her blindly, wonder what it’s going to feel like with a hand on a cock and three fingers inside her.  It is, as she could have imagined, almost the best thing ever when she gets a grip on Hallsy.

The angle is strange and she’s losing track of what’s going where.  She can feel the orgasm building.  Behind her, Hallsy is twitching and always touching.  He has both hands on her tits and then grips her across the clavicle.  He’s destroying her neck.  Ebs watches all of it with heavy eyes.  He’s got a hand on his own dick now, in sync with his fingers inside her.

She is so fucking close and all three of them know it.  They’re all about ready to pop.

Hallsy slides a hand down her stomach.  His fingers flip into the mess she’s made, they’ve all made, and he circles her clit with a patient determination.

Ryan comes first, her core clenching around Ebs so tight she can almost feel a twinge of pain.  She loosens her grip on Hallsy’s cock as the pleasure rolls through her body.  It doesn’t matter.  He’s shooting across her back moments later with a shout and Ebs isn’t too far behind. 

They come down together; Ebs slumped into her chest and Hallsy still holding her tight.  She has the feeling that they should clean up and she should go back to her room. She really needs to think about this because this is so much more than she could have ever expected-

“Fuck’s sake, Nuge.  Relax.”  Ebs is muffled by her skin.  He picks up his face and gives her the endearing, gap-toothed smile that’s really growing on her.  “You’re loud as fuck right now.”

Hallsy gets a hand free and shoves at Ebs, pushing him sideways.  “Leave the rookie alone, goober.”  He’s fucking affectionate, nuzzling at her ear from behind like a cat.  “Go get a towel so we can clean up and get some sleep.”

Hallsy doesn’t loosen his grip until Ebs has cleaned off himself and her thighs.  Hallsy manhandles her forward so he can take care of her back and himself.  She’s going to push herself up and get dressed again.  She needs to go back to her room.  One foot touches the floor and Ebs is on her.

“Oh no you don’t.  Post-sex cuddling is the best.”  He’s laughing a little and Ryan goes with it.  She’s squished between the two of them.  They’re way too hot and she still feels sticky, but as their heartbeats calm she feels that same sort of calm that would come when she was alone.

It was much deeper now though.  All encompassing.  Ryan sighed, her head nestling in tight against Ebs’ chest.  “See.  This is the best ever, isn’t it?”  Ryan nods at Hallsy.  It really is.

She feels full.  Not just physically, from the release of endorphins and the memory of Ebs inside her, but also mentally.

All those empty spaces are filled.  All the dark corners that have haunted her life are glowing brilliant and golden.  She decides two pairs of arms wrapped around her, that she now feels familiar and whole.  And it is the best feeling ever.

End


End file.
